Clients get their own front door
They sign in and see their projects, their files, their invoices — and nothing belonging to anyone else.
For contractors, fit-out firms and architects
Somebody on site said go ahead. The client swears they never agreed to it. There is a WhatsApp message, a photograph of a drawing, and a foreman who remembers it differently. You will be paying for this one, and you both know it.
↑ Only Omar can authorise a variation. Not the foreman, not a text message, not “Lena said it was fine”.
The variation is stamped with his name, the date and the cost he saw at the time — attached to the job, not to somebody’s phone. Disputes stop being one memory against another.
Live in five days · no per-seat pricing · the accounts are in your name from day one
Nobody lied. Everybody remembers it slightly differently, which is worse:
↑ Six weeks. One thumbs-up. Forty thousand pounds nobody will admit to.
Nothing here is broken. The work lives in one place, the money in another, and the client in your inbox.
None of it records who agreed to what. So the argument is always yours to lose.
Fifty-three screens ship with it. These eight change your week; the rest are quiet until you want them.
They sign in and see their projects, their files, their invoices — and nothing belonging to anyone else.
Work goes out as a decision, not an attachment. Approve, or request changes — recorded, dated, signed. “I never approved that” stops being a conversation.
Owner signs and pays. Manager approves. Team member uploads. Viewer looks. Set per client in a minute — the wrong person doesn’t get the button.
Projects, tasks, calendar and pipeline in one place. What’s moving, what’s stuck, and who it’s sitting with. Usually them.
Raise it against the work, send it, see who hasn’t paid — without opening anything else. It bills. It isn’t your accountant.
Your logo, your colours, your domain. Nothing on the screen mentions us. As far as they know, you built it.
He’s carried three jobs in his head for eleven years and nobody wrote any of it down. This keeps a standing list of who is the only person on something — read off your job records, not his phone.
Backed up nightly, and read back to check it restores — an unread backup is a hope. Any records export to a plain file. Nothing holds you hostage.
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That was the half your clients touch. This is the half you get — no extra charge, and no obligation to open any of it on day one.
Project software tracks the programme. This one tracks who said yes.
Not "onboarding". Not a "discovery phase". A week, with your actual work in it at the end.
Your stages, your roles, who is allowed to approve what. Bring a job that went sideways — everyone has one.
Your instance, your subdomain, your logo and colours — on accounts opened in your name.
Live clients, live jobs, the invoices you’re still chasing. No sample data.
An hour together. If it needs a training course, it’s built wrong.
Two or three to start. The first decision that lands there instead of your inbox pays for the week.
The accounts are yours. Your domain, your hosting, your database — opened in your name, on your card, on day one. About $40–50 a month, paid straight to them, no markup.
So there is no switch we can flip. Sack us on a Wednesday and nothing turns off — you keep the system, the data, the logins, and a runbook any developer can pick up.
The whole week below, your branding, your real work loaded in. Then pick a support option — or don't.
Same week, same result, no strings attached to the end of it.
It's yours, it's running, we're done. Genuinely a fine choice.
The sensible middle. Email support, one business day, Monday to Friday.
On top of the care plan, when you want the thing itself changed.
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For scale: a custom-built client portal runs $25,000–$60,000 and takes six months. We're the other option.
He knew which supplier actually turns up, which variation was agreed on the phone, and which client signs off quickly if you catch them before ten. Then he retired.
Mark someone as leaving and it reads their jobs, tasks, clients and variations, and assembles what they were carrying — before the exit interview, not after it.
“Four live jobs have one name on them.” Better to see that while he’s on notice than the first week he isn’t.
Whoever picks up the patch gets the jobs, the clients and the open variations, plus a list of what the records can’t tell them.
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The van keys come back.
Everything else walks.
It reads your jobs, clients, tasks and variations. Not his phone, not his texts, not the notebook in the van. What it can’t see is whatever never got typed anywhere — so it tells you which questions to ask before the last day.
Every other page today told you what its software does. Here is the other list — you would find out in week two anyway, and week two is a rotten time to find out.
Not a demo call — four questions. If it isn't a fit we'll say so in the first ten minutes and give you the twenty back.
A real person, same working day.
Free, and nothing to fill in
Seven numbers you already know — turnover, a typical job, how many variations it carries — and you get the annual value of the ones agreed on site with nothing in writing. It runs in your browser, asks for no address, and shows every step of the arithmetic so you can argue with it.
Twenty minutes, four questions, no slides. Tell us how the job runs where you are — we work with contractors, fit-out firms and architects — and you'll get a reply from the person who built it. There is no sales team to pass you to.